Is That My?
by Amandah Leigh
Summary: ADMM No longer a one-shot. Idea from admm site plot bunny... Albus thinks a first year looks & acts a little like some other people he knows (wink wink) and Minerva admits that they have a child she gave up for adoption.
1. Chapter One

A/N & Summary: This comes from a plot bunny found on http :admmfics.proboards22. com…Except I change some things around a little (because I am weird like that). A first year enters the Great Hall, and Albus notices how similar shelooks/is to…them! Minerva confesses that they had a child some time back and she gave it up for adoption. This is intended to be a one-shot, but if there's any interest I've given thought to how they tell her (or how she finds out) and all that jazz... Please review! :) Thanks…

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, though we are very close friends. And by "very close friends," I mean that I worship her and she has no clue I exist, b/c we've never met. So please be aware that as "close" as we are, I am not JK, I am Amandah, and HP belongs not to me, but to her. Cool.

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**"Is that my…?"**

Minerva placed the Sorting Hat on the stool, and stood back. A rip appeared above the brim, and opened like a mouth. The Sorting Hat began to sing.

Albus watched with his colleagues as the new students' eyes grew wide. The, Minerva called out a name. And another name. And another. And so on and so forth until every child had been sorted.

She removed the Hat and took her seat behind him at the table in the Great Hall.

"Isee that Mr. Potter is in Gryffindor," he said to her after finishing the start of term notes.

"He is indeed. And another Malfoy in Slytherin," she glanced at him, but quickly averted her eyes back to her plate when she caught him looking back at her.

"Wouldn't imagine them in any other house," his eyes scanned the Great Hall. "Longbottom is in Gryffindor too. Very appropriate."

"Albus, I…"

"Yes, Minerva?"

She shook her head and sighed. "Never mind."

He smiled at her quizzically. "That girl there, Minerva. That Gryffindor. She looks an awful lot like…What color eyes has she?"

Minerva sighed. She had been waiting for him to mention her. That girl. She looked a lot like…But her hair was different, and it had been so long, how could he possibly…?

"Her eyes are brown, Albus."

"There's just something about her I like. Her hair, I think."

"It to is brown, Albus." Minerva continued to avoid looking into his eyes while they spoke. She had known too, the second she had laid eyes on the girl. She had a certain quality…

"Her hair is so…I know it's brown, Minerva, but do you not think she looks an awful lot like your sister? I remember Emma Kate from school, she was, of course, in my Transfiguration class right up through her NEWT levels."

"You often compared the two of us. She was much smarter than I."

"I never compared you to your sister. But you are correct. She was_considerably_ smarter."

Minerva's eyes flashed. "You are lucky, Albus Dumbledore, that it would be entirely improper for me to slap you here in front of so many people."

He smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "I knew _that_ would get a response from you. Would you please look at me, Minerva? I feel like an Unspeakable here, talking to the woman next to me and yet staring straight ahead as if we've never met."

She turned her head and allowed his eyes to meet hers. "It is safer that way, Albus. And, if you recall, I scored higher than she on both the Owl and NEWT levels as far as Transfiguration was concerned."

His smile broadened. "Indeed, Professor McGonagall. But unlike Emma Kate with the tiny upturned nose and frizzybrown hair, you were granted several, er, _private_ lessons."

"Albus!" she gasped, hiding a smile in favor of her more well-known stern expression. "You know as well as I that I was never in need of any private lessons! Nor did you grant me any." She took a bite of her dinner and went back to looking straight ahead.

"And yet you hung around my desk so often after lessons thatwhen you left school my classroom felt as though one of it's most permanent fixtures was gone." He too stared straight ahead. "And I see we've gone back to being Unspeakables."

She glanced at him, and he caught a trace of sadness on her face. "We've been rather unspeakable for a great many years, Albus."

He nodded. "Perhaps too many years, Minerva?"

"Not until she has grown up, Albus."

He nodded again. "It is true then? She is our…"

"Why did you think so?" she inquired, looking at the girl again. She was seated just down the table from Potter, near Longbottom and several other familiar faces.

"I would love to say that it was her facial expressions, her perfect skin, small nose or voice, but in all honesty, it was her know-it-all, bossy, intelligent, strictly by-the-rules attitude that tipped me off."

Minerva faced him again, eyebrows raised. "How on earth could you tell all that? She's just arrived!"

"I heard her talking to some children out in the corridor before you came out and interrupted."

"I did not see you out there."

"Oh, but I was, Minerva! Consider me a fly on the wall." He helped himself to some potatoes.

Minerva pushed an imagined strand of raven hair from her face. "A fly on the wall?" she asked, "Or a bee in the air?"

Grinning, Albus replied, "You know me too well, Minerva! But now I feel I hardly know you. How is that that—"

"Albus," she cut him off. "It is a long and rather complicated matter."

"But then you must have gotten…" he lowered his voice to a whisper so hardly audible Minerva had to nonchalantly lean over to hear him. "Pregnant."

She smiled and sat up straight again (he noticed that the first year girl had excellent posture as well). "That _is_ usually how it happens, Albus."

"But how?"

"Surely you remember how!"

He allowed himself to smile slightly despite his upset over having something so important hidden from him for so very long. "Perhaps you could remind me this evening?"

"Albus!"

"I mean, perhaps you could provide more details this evening. You have been keeping this secret far too long. Our child, did you give…Was…"

"I gave her up for adoption, Albus. It was the best at the time, Grindelwald was wrecking havoc everywhere, and no child of yours would be safe! No, it had to be that way. I gave her up to a Muggle couple in 1944."

"Why did she not come to Hogwarts in '56 then? Or did she?"

"She did not. You are familiar, Albus, with many forms of ancient magic. I am too, thanks to my parents. Emma Kate helped me to perform a series of spells and potions, and by the time our daughter was born—"

"There wasn't a bit of magic left in her."

"I have often regretted my decision, Albus. Especially after he was defeated…"

Albus was the one looking defeated at that moment. "If only I had rid the world of him sooner!"

"If only I'd had the patience to wait. But it was all for the best, Albus. Her mother grew up knowing nothing of magic or wizards or us. She married a Muggle man and they welcomed that little one to their family in September, 1979. Our daughter was 35 then. I've been watching her for decades."

"So our granddaughter, she will be twelve this month?"

"She will. Oh and Albus, you should be both proud and excited to know that she is already a promising witch! She tried several spells at home before she came; I know I should have sent a letter about 'no magic outside school,' but I was so interested to see what she could do…I confess I put a charm around her house to stop the Ministry, and you, from finding out."

"Minerva," he said in a scolding voice, but he was smiling.

She took a sip of her gillywater and returned his smile.

"She did a spell on the train too! Fixed Mister Potter's glasses!"

"How did you--?"

"I have my ways."

"So, they named our granddaughter Hermione, eh?"

"That's right. Hermione Granger."

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a/n2: Well, there's no denying that HG is like a mini MM, right? lol... :) Please review! I'll give you a lemon drop! (okay, that's a lie...but please review anyway!) 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

That Night, Continued.

After the Feast, Minerva said good evening to the other professors and proceeded to the Gryffindor common room. She made sure that everything was running smoothly and retired to her private chambers. It wasn't long before she heard a knock at the door. With a sigh, she set down her book and got up to answer it. She had been expecting this, and yet, despite the decades she'd had to prepare, Minerva had no idea what to say to--

"Poppy?" Minerva had opened the door to find her good friend Poppy Pomfrey, Hogwart's Medi Witch standing in front of her, a small gray and brown owl perched on her right arm.

"Missing someone?" asked Poppy, smiling.

"How did you know that I--Oh! You mean Paelia?" _Turn your brain on, Minerva! Of couse she's talking about the Owl...your missing Owl!_

Poppy raised an eyeborw, concerned about her friend's reaction to the return of her missing pet. "Min?"

"Paelia! Where have you been hiding, it's been nearly a week?! Oh, Poppy, thank you for bringing her back. I'm afraid I'm a bit, er, out of touch tonight, start of term and all that, what with...what with Harry Potter finally here..."

"Of course! Entirely understandable," said Poppy, looking at her friend questioningly. Paelia, the small owl, hopped from the nurse's arm to Minerva's left shoulder. "She was locked in a broom closet on the third floor. Bet that awful Mrs. Norris had something to do with it. Damn cats. Can't trust them...I mean, not...not cats...Cats who are just cats, I meant, not..."

"It's okay, Poppy. I know what you meant." Minerva sighed and settled back in the comfortable chair in which she had sat to read her book. "Have a seat, Poppy."

"You seem depressed, Minerva. Care to discuss it?" Poppy ducked as Paelia flew away from Minerva and over the nurse's head to her perch. Poppy sat on the little 'half-couch' (Minerva did not like referring to it as a 'love seat,' as she felt that was awfully silly) and pulled her legs up under her, sitting much the way on of the teenage students might.

"Just tired, Poppy. And stressed. That's all. I can't believe it's already been ten years since the demise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"I can't believe it's been eleven years since the birth of your grandchild and you haven't said a word about seeing her today."

"Poppy! How did--"

"Minerva, please! It was I who helped you perform the spells in the first place, back when...when we thought there were no options. Or had you forgotten?"

"I told Albus that Emma Kate helped me to perform the magic. I did not want him to think that you had been deceiving him as well."

"Well, Emma Kate _was_ present, and she _did_ throw her twogalleons in every few minutes. So tell me more about your granddaughter."

Suddenly something dawned on Minerva. "Wait a moment, Poppy. I never told you about Hermione--"

"So that's her name! Hermione." Minerva's eyes narrowed and Poppy averted her gaze.

"Poppy Pomfrey! Just how did you know about my grandchild? And for that matter, it _was_ you who helped me do those spells, and it _was_ you who said that the magic would no longer carry on--"

"I'm sorry, Minerva. I didn't think that...that is to say...I did not finish..." Poppy hopped to her feet and took a couple of steps towards the door. "Perhaps I ought to go."

"Poppy!"

"I'm sure Albus will be in to speak to you any minute, and I'd prefer to be gone before he arrives."

Minerva stood up rather quickly and grasped the chair for support. "Poppy Pomfrey, you are not telling me something!"

"Goodnight, Minerva. Give my regards to Albus, will you?" With that, Poppy exited Minerva's chambers, leaving Minerva alone again.

Though it was late and she was very tired (not to mention very confused) Minerva did not get ready for bed. She fully expected Albus to call at any moment...but he did not. She fell asleep in her chair, closed book in her hand, and there she awoke the following morning.

In his own chambers, Albus had paced many times back and forth across his sitting room before retiring to his bed. A part of him was dying to go to Minerva, to ask questions, to demand answers, to refuse to leave until he knew everything...But she had told him most everything at dinner, had she not? But why then? And why there? After so many decades of secrets and lies?

He had gone to visit her in her chambers many, many times in the decades since Grindelwald's defeat. He considered her to be, in addition to the great love of his life, his closets friend and confidant. But as he lay in the dark, glasses off, night robes on, tired and yet feeling that sleep was long out of reach he wondered just how much he knew about Minerva McGonagall. At that moment, in the dark, he felt like he hardly knew her at all.

The next morning was typical, except that there was an odd distance between the headmaster and his deputy at breakfast. Albus paid close attention to the students, especially The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, and his own decendant, Hermione Granger. The Muggle Born. His granddaughter, a muggle? His offspring, a squib? A squib who had no idea that she was a squib, whose knowledge of magic extended only to what she had read in her daughter's Hogwarts acceptance letter...How could that be?

Minerva, too, was lost in her own thoughts. She tried not to stare at the little girl, just as she tried to ignore little Harry Potter just a few feet away from her. He was sitting with a Weasley, Ronald, the second youngest of Molly Prewett's many children. _Weasley, _Mienrva reminded herself. _Molly Weasley_. One would think that Minerva would be used to the redhead's married name, as it had been her moniker for over half her life, but the transfiguration professor tended to remember each of her sutdents exactly as they were when they were her students. Fiery Molly Prewett, intelligent Frank Longbottom,sarcastic Bellatrix Black, pre-expulsion Rubeus Hagrid, playful Dedalus Diggle, pudgy Peter Pettigrew--oh, how sorry she felt for the poor little Gryffindor, always tagging after Sirius and James--James. James Potter and Lily Evans, the parents of young Harry. How they had all suffered, the Prewetts, the Potters, the Longbottoms...suffered at the hands of former students like Rabastan Lestrange and Anton Dolohov and Bartemius Crouch, jr...

But her daughter had known none of this. When Minerva made her decision all those years ago, she looked around her and saw suffering everywhere. Suffering and torture and pain and destruction. Tom Riddle was a student then...if only she'd known what he was going to become...

She had done the right thing in depriving her child knowledge and access to the Magic world. A million times she had regretted her past choices. She might have told Albus. They might have married. Their daughter might have attended the school and done great things...

She might have been an animagus, like her mother, a life-savor, like her father...Or she might have been tortured, like Alice (Gregson) Longbottom. She might have been murdered, like Gideon Prewett...

Hermione might not have ever been born...

_No, _Minerva assured herself for the half-millionth time._ I did the right thing. And I will tell Albus as much. Tonight. Or tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow would be better. I will tell him everything._

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A/N Okay, this fic was SUPPOSED to be a one-shot, but I keep thinking up new ideas for it, so I'm thinking it will be a short fic for me to work on when I do not have, for example, my notes for my other fics handy so I can't work on them or if I'm just feeling like jotting down a little more. I plan to write about how/why they tell Hermione, and the night Minerva talks to Albus, and maybe when they meet their daughter for the first time. So at least three more little chapters, maybe a fourth just to toss in some admm fluff at the end, but not too much...So please review! And this time I really will give a Sherbet Lemon to anyone who does! :)


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